#dr birch

THIS IS SO LATE IN THE DAY BUT I DON'T CARE!!!!!!

I love my chemically imbalanced romantic puppets guys. (girl help I am being dragged back to my MCR phase)

“No. No. Definitely not! Nope.” Pal listed off in quick succession as he pulled various shirts out of his closet only to toss them over his shoulder when they didn't make the cut. Three quarters of his wardrobe was already on the floor behind him, his desperation to find something acceptable to wear growing as the clothes in his closet rapidly dwindled.

“Ah-hah! Perfect!” Pal announced triumphantly as he held a patterned button-up aloft, practically skipping over to his full-length mirror –carefully picking his way through the sea of clothes that littered the floor– in order to hold the shirt in front of his torso. The pale pink and white shirt complimented his green fur, though the patterns on his shirt would make it the center of attention.

Pal excitedly shrugged out of his plain orange t-shirt and shrugged into the button-up, fingers deftly fiddling with the small buttons. With his top taken care of, he turned his attention to the dresser, rummaging through it for a pair of tan khakis. Once he’d found and donned his chosen pants, he went back to the closet to peruse his not insignificant collection of fanny packs.

Maybe white? Or tan! Green?

“Gosh, who knew being back in the dating scene would be this hard?” Pal sighed, cupping his face with his hand as he tilted his head, struggling to make a decision. Perhaps he needed a second opinion? Conifer and Murray were downstairs last Pal checked, though they were both occupied with their own respective activities.

Surely they could spare five minutes to help him get ready for his first date in… wow. It’d been a while since he’d left the house for anything other than an outing with Mabel and Dipper. His last serious relationship had been back in highschool. And, understandably, romance was the last thing on his mind after he lost Conifer to the portal.

Suddenly, he was seized with the urge to see Conifer home and safe, which spurred him to snatch the white fanny pack, clipping it around his waist as he hurried out of the room. He jogged down the hall and turned the corner to head down the staircase that would bring him to the ground floor only to collide with Murray, sending them both down the steps and into a pile of limbs once they reached the bottom.

“Sorry Murray!” Pal laughed from his sprawled position below the older puppet, who was looking more annoyed than usual as he rolled off of Pal and stood. Murray fussily brushed himself off with some muttered insults and complaints that lacked any real heat, the older puppet looking away as he grumpily offered Pal a hand up.

“You don’t sound or look sorry.” Murray said blandly as Pal accepted the help with a huge smile, getting his feet under him. As soon as he was upright, his grip on Murray’s hand tightened so he could use their clasped hands to drag the older puppet into a crushing hug, eliciting a startled sound from Murray that was followed by hissed protests that Pal blatantly ignored.

“Murray? What are you yelling about–” Conifer asked as he poked his head out of the living room, cutting himself off when the answer to his question became apparent. Conifer’s face immediately lit up and he all but scrambled out of the living room to join them at the bottom of the staircase. Conifer circled Pal with visible enthusiasm, taking him in before coming to a stop beside him.

“Pal, you look amazing!” Conifer exclaimed, clapping his hands, and Pal couldn’t help but match his excitement. And now that Pal had eyes on his brother, relief washed through him, the fear of finding an empty and quiet house steadily easing the longer he basked in Conifer and Murray’s presence.

“Aw, stop! I just threw something together.” Pal drawled, his smile turning sheepish.

“Put. Me. Down!” Murray demanded with all the vitriol of a disgruntled cat, squirming in a futile attempt to free himself.